


Tempest

by cheyennesunrise



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Abstract, Artificial Intelligence, Gen, One Shot, Personification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 16:44:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1311919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheyennesunrise/pseuds/cheyennesunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Machine prepares for war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempest

**Author's Note:**

> Just a strange little fic about the "calm before the storm". The Machine prepares for battle and Harold Finch is overwhelmed.

The world is an egg and New York is the soupy yellow yolk. It is a contained tempest, swirling sluggishly against brittle, too-thin walls, waiting for the faintest crack and then _splat._

The Machine is already at work.

She’s poking Root’s cerebellum with her Ethernet fingers, urging her to collect the hidden, the fallen, her missing lambs.

_Come home, my children._

For a brief instant, Harold wishes that he never created the Machine, but he destroys the thought like bad code, burying it away in the libraries of his mind.

_It was always worth it._

America is safe, but how safe is he?

Everyone wants a piece of his Machine, his fatally dichotomous child. They’d kill for her.

Harold closes his hands over his ears, but he can still hear her cry on the wind, plaintive and lonely, feral and strong.

_It is time. War is coming._

Harold knows that the Machine doesn’t speak to him, and he curses himself for personifying ~~her~~ it.

She’s saying something; she’s screaming.

Root receives the messages in a dream. She’s been waiting for this for so long, so long.

Harold looks over the city and tries to drown it out, but it’s louder than ever.

It’s in every traffic camera, every car alarm. He can feel it reverberating in his bones, and it’s terrifyingly organic.

It’s almost alive, but he dares not utter the thought for fear that it might come true.

A million eyes blink, and the city is possessed by the ghost of his Machine.

She is here , and she is ready for war.

Harold can only watch and wait.


End file.
